


Septette for the Dead Princess

by demonladys



Series: Gothic Romance Propaganda [1]
Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Chisato Shirasagi: ripples of 300 years, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Gothic Horror AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lesbian Vampires, Monsters, POV Alternating, Romance, Sayo Hikawa: punished huntress, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonladys/pseuds/demonladys
Summary: Few know the truth behind Countess Chisato Shirasagi's bloodstained history. A huntress by the name of Sayo Hikawa is tasked with eliminating the Countess, but she soon finds herself getting to know her target much more intimately.
Relationships: Hikawa Sayo/Shirasagi Chisato
Series: Gothic Romance Propaganda [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092047
Comments: 16
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CW: violence, blood, making out, and anything else you could expect from a gay vampire hunter/vampire fanfic.

Sayo can hardly see them through the branches from the forest’s floor, but the stars certainly are beautiful. She’s always figured Hina as the one more fascinated by the skies beyond, but there’s a soft spot in her heart for the night sky. There’s an entire universe out there, one full of mystery beyond the reach of any divine being or disciple. Perhaps in the furthest reaches of the stars, there’s a world much less restricted by the rigid ideals borne of man.

She stretches her arm out and pretends to grasp one star just for herself. It’s silly, the sort of thing a child would do. But with nobody watching out here, there’s no harm in indulging. It’s not as if she’s let her guard down entirely -- she’s reaching for her crossbow around her waist in case a wolf tries to jump her through the forest. She’s dressed in a dark long coat with a million different pockets and compartments for holding wooden stakes, silver arrows, potions and daggers; tools of the trade for a monster hunter. Her mark tonight has quite the reputation -- supposedly, she’s the source of a terror dating back over a century. Sayo will need an extra set of stakes if she wants to make it out of this place alive.

There’s been a few beasts roaming the woods, but the trip to Chateau Shirasagi has been alarmingly quiet. Most vampires wealthy and powerful enough to own castles usually keep those castles heavily guarded from potential intruders and have hordes of zombies and skeletal knights guarding the surrounding area. When she arrives at the structure itself, she’s shocked to find not even a moat around it to ward her. Just one set of stone doors hardly larger than the average human. She pulls the twin handles and the doors swing open at her command. She draws her crossbow and jolts into the manor with her finger on the trigger ready to fire on-sight.

She’s greeted by a grandiose foyer, held together by sleek pillars of marble and lined with red velvet carpet from the entrance to the upward staircase. There are barely-lit candles along each pillar giving the room just enough visibility for her to see that she is entirely alone inside. Not a speck of dust on the carpet, so there’s definitely maids or servants somewhere but nothing likely to pose a major threat. She keeps her finger over the trigger, eyes forward, siler-headed arrow loaded. She moves forward with caution… but there’s no immediate danger. No overgrown bats, no demons or reapers, nothing… 

The sound of heels clicking against wood descends from upstairs. Their pace is relaxed, drumming beat by beat into the carpet and pumping adrenaline into Sayo’s chest as she awaits the owner to reveal herself. She keeps her crossbow aimed toward the top of the staircase directly across from where she entered from. The sound is getting closer, echoing through the empty foyer like droplets off a stalactite. Soon, the woman responsible appears from beyond the walls. A woman with bright golden hair, an elegant black dress, skin like a phantom of a human. Her irises are somewhere between magenta and crimson. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Countess Chisato Shirasagi -- the dormant nightmare in the forest.

“My apologies for the delay. I wasn’t expecting a guest on such short notice.” She lifts one hand from the railing and holds it with graceful flair. “Welcome to Chateau Shirasagi, huntress.”

Sayo’s eyes widen in fear, but she pays her platitudes no mind. “You know why I’m here then.” She sets her aim directly onto the Countess and pulls the trigger.

Chisato raises her other hand in front of her and a barrier of pure scarlet manifests from nothing. The arrow bounces off of the mist and shatters in two, its remains falling to the carpet at Chisato’s feet.

Sayo swaps out her crossbow, pulling her falchion from its sheath and rushing toward Chisato on her feet. She leaps up the staircase and takes a swing at the Countess, who anticipates it with ease and dances around her. So she can’t block from this close, Sayo deduces between breaths and jumps to the side to avoid a potential retaliation. Chisato, however, does not attack. Sayo pulls a glass bottle from her satchel with her left hand, keeping it hidden while she threatens with the blade of her sword. A blade of pure silver. Chisato steps to the side without so much as raising a fist, undaunted.

“Your efforts are adorable, but I would appreciate it if you lower your weapon,” Chisato says. “I won’t kill you.”

Sayo doesn’t trust a word from her mouth and lunges forward. While she narrowly misses with the end of her blade, she raises her other hand to throw the holy water at the vampire. But in the blink of an eye, Chisato is gone. In another blink, there’s an elbow ramming into Sayo’s back with the force of a boulder. Sayo’s body hits the floor like a fly swatted from the air, holding tight onto her sword, but as she tries to recover she’s smacked in the face by the leather of Chisato’s shoe. Sayo is lying on her back when one heel lands on her chest, keeping her pinned in place. The other heel swings at her left hand and knocks the bottle of holy water away from her. It’s tossed through the air and past the guardrail, falling and shattering against the carpet on the floor below, staining velvet.

Chisato’s heel presses down on Sayo’s chest. Her ribcage feels as if it’s being completely crushed. Chisato loosens that hold for a moment and raises the heel to Sayo’s neck. It looms over Sayo’s throat. “Fool. I could kill you right now if I so desired.”

Sayo croaks out the words, “So why haven’t you?”

“Are you listening to a word I say?”

Sayo gulps, staring up at her enemy with a confidence that she should know better than to harbor at a time like this. She gulps down the air, knowing she could die any second if she doesn’t choose her words wisely. “I’ll listen. So speak.”

“Hands off the sword first.”

Sayo’ hesitates for a moment, but slowly, her fingers loosen from the hilt of her blade. There’s a soft thud when it touches the floor.

“Good girl,” Chisato says, rescinding her shoe and freeing Sayo’s throat from nearly being crushed. “On your feet, huntress.”

Sayo stares at the ceiling for a brief few minutes. There are garnet drapes hung from the ceiling as part of the decor, and stained glass in the shape of a broken mural. Her life should be flashing before her eyes. Instead, she was spared. She places her hands in front of her and feet behind, pushing herself up and rising in attention. Once she’s standing, she notices that the Countess is actually a fair bit shorter than herself. She never would have imagined. Chisato wears a black dress that ruffles around the skirt, with loose sleeves that sway around her wrists.

She scans her eyes over Chisato, looking for the minute details in her demeanor, until she notices that the Countess is doing the same. “Hikawa,” she bows out of courtesy, not having a clue what else to do at the moment but trying to keep the vampire from peering too deeply into her. “Sayo Hikawa. Professional monster hunter.”

“Fufu,” Chisato laughs, though there doesn’t seem to be an ounce of malice in her tone. “A pleasure to meet you, Sayo. I’m sure you know already, but I am Countess Chisato Shirasagi. Professional reclusive vampire, if you will.”

“Since when was your title ‘The Merciful’?” Sayo tries to lighten the tension with something akin to a joke, though she’s never been known for her colorful sense of humor. Uptight is more often what she’s heard.

“I have a personal code to hold myself to. I won’t kill another woman without reason.”

Sayo raises her eyebrows and places one finger on her chin. This is certainly unexpected. Of all the hunters to enter Chateau Shirasagi and never return, she would not have expected herself to survive solely on the basis of gender. Ha, to think there would finally be an advantage to the thing that led her to the edges of society in the first place. “I suppose I should thank you, then.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I know you have a job to do,” Chisato says with a frown. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with you before we fight again. Perhaps we can grow to understand each other?”

Sayo hasn’t a clue what Chisato means by this, but she pushes her fears down with another big gulp of air and sticks her hand out. “Very well, Countess Shirasagi.” She expected this to be difficult, but… This might be the most bizarre hunt she’s ever been on. From the sound of it, the real fight has hardly even begun. Chisato takes her hand, gripping it delicately within her own. Chisato’s skin is so cold, but the cold doesn’t bother Sayo -- a woman who has known naught but the cold for her whole life.

* * *

While Sayo stalks through the manor with Chisato’s guidance, she notices just how empty the place really is. There are maybe twenty-two maids at most on the staff, they keep to themselves for the most part. Though there are countless doors throughout the hallways, so many seem to lead to nowhere or to rooms that have been left unoccupied for decades. She snuck a peak into a few of them only to find cobwebs sticking to the corners of olden dressers and unused beds pushed to the walls, with empty coffins set out atop them. It’s a wonder what these rooms used to be for. Perhaps Chisato is not the only vampire who called this place home.

The banquet hall reminds Sayo of a tavern that her mother took her and Hina to when they were children. There’s a long table stretching from the entrance to the other end in the middle of the room and several rounded tables off to the side. The floor is made of marble and there are sparkling chandeliers hung overhead, with such intricate designs adorned by gemstones and gold. She sits across from Chisato at one of the smaller, circular tables covered by a silk white tablecloth. She wonders if vampires prefer white because it’s easier to spot the stains of blood and by extension easier to wash off. Or maybe it’s a means of showing off? One could wear their blood-soaked cloth as means of intimidation, she supposes.

“It’s been quite a while since I shared a meal with a guest. I do hope it is to your liking.”

Sayo tears away a chunk of fried potato with her teeth and devours it, giving an assuring nod. The savory taste melts inside her mouth and settles itself over her tongue. She was uncertain at first, and still even after a maid took one bite to prove it wasn’t poisoned. But just one bite of the dish was enough to assuage her fears. Once she swallows, she washes it down with a sip of wine before speaking again. “This is the best meal I’ve had in a long time. I owe you, Countess Shirasagi.”

A modest smile forms on Chisato’s lips. “Do not worry about repayment. You are my guest. It’s only natural that I would make sure you are well fed.” Chisato lifts her own wine glass and takes a sip, carefully so that none of its contents splatter onto her face. Sayo recognizes it’s blood of some sort, but what kind is uncertain.

She’s still got this uneasy feeling about her -- the aura surrounding Chisato is difficult to read. Though from what she’s gathered, Chisato harbors no hostility at the moment. If the Countess intends to kill her, she certainly could have done so by now. Perhaps… that talk about her ‘code of honor’ was entirely honest?

“Though, I’m surprised to hear you say that. I figured monster hunting paid well enough that you could eat decadently.” Chisato holds the stem of her glass between her fingers with its bowl in her palm, the liquid within sloshes around as she speaks.

Sayo shakes her head as she chews another bite from the potato. Once she finishes it and washes it with wine, she says, “Not exactly. The hunter’s guild takes a cut in exchange for providing a place to live and access to their armory, so we’re left with just enough to get by.” She leaves out a looming thought about how terrifying it can be to live like this. Oftentimes fighting werewolves and demons is much less terrifying than not knowing if she’ll earn enough to feed herself for the month.

“Is that so?” Chisato’s head tilts quizzically before she takes another sip. The slightest stray drop of blood lands at the edge of her mouth, but she quickly catches it with her tongue. She finds her gaze lingering on the corner of Chisato’s lips, a little bit curious and a little bit mesmerized. “Ah, my apologies. This is pig blood, not human. I should have clarified before indulging in it in front of you.”

Sayo places a finger over her lip in questioning. “I thought livestock blood didn’t contain as much sustenance for vampires.”

Chisato’s ears perk up and she raises her eyes. “You would be correct. We feed on human blood not only for taste, but for nutrition.”

“Then why pig blood?” There’s actually concern in Sayo’s gaze right now, in spite of the fact that she should view the Countess as her enemy.

“You may recall that I’ve withdrawn from the world, Sayo. I don’t exactly have an endless supply of humans to feast upon. I take what I can get from foolish men who wander into my home, but otherwise I’m left with one good meal per month.” Chisato gently sets her glass down on the tablecloth, her expression growing mournful. “And that itself is a generous donation from the Chateau's staff of maids, who allow me to indulge in their blood as a gift. I’ve told them they do not need to, but they insist.”

Sayo scans the woman across from her and recalls the powerful blow she took to her back earlier. “In that case…”

“Yes, I’m actually quite weak as of now. Our little tussel from earlier took more out of me than you would expect.”

“I-I see…” Sayo is already considering how she might deal with Chisato if they do end up fighting again. She’s uncertain if this information will actually be of any use to her, because why would her enemy admit to her own weaknesses? But on the other hand… the thought of how strong Countess Chisato Shirasagi would have been while she was regularly feeding on humans fills her with a terror that far surpasses the fear of death she held earlier. “Why are you telling me this?”

Chisato’s expression returns to a lighthearted smile, she folds her fingers in front of her and sets them on the table. “I told you before. I’d like for us to understand each other.”

It’s impressive how the words Chisato utters feel so insincere, yet as far as Sayo can tell, she hasn’t told a single lie. Perhaps there are things she’s left unspoken, but nothing intentionally misleading. Besides, she made it clear enough already that they may yet again face off.

Rather than ponder too heavily on the topic, Sayo decides that it may be in her best interest to understand Chisato as well. Perhaps it will help in the battle to come, or perhaps… no, she shouldn’t be considering that. There’s no way she could safely return home without first completing her mission here. She speaks up, “...I wouldn’t judge you if it was, though.”

“Hm?” Chisato leans in with curiosity.

“If it was human blood. I would not have judged you.”

“You don’t mind watching monsters feed upon your fellow humans?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but…” Sayo averts her eyes from Chisato’s gaze, trying very hard to make it not seem like she’s pouting right now. “It’s not as if I think it’s wrong.”

Chisato does not hold back. She bursts out laughing, pure joy in her tone, and leans in closer. Sayo’s face is turning red all over, she’s hiding a bashful smile with the back of her hand. “I suppose not. It is how we are, after all.”

“You know what they say about people who fight monsters,” Sayo says. “I don’t remember the exact quote, but you have to be a little bit of a monster yourself.”

Chisato steps around the table with her hands held out. She places the palm of one hand upon Sayo’s chin. She tilts Sayo’s head toward herself, forcing Sayo to look directly into the Countess’ eyes. “Does that make you a monster, Sayo Hikawa?”

Her pulse grows irregular. She can’t tell if it’s from fear or something more painful, more insidious rooted within her. She flashes a weakened smile in return. “I might be.”

There’s an almost real bliss sneaking through in Chisato’s grin. Whether it is real is not something Sayo can discern, but her heart skips a beat and she feels herself die for just a moment as she finds herself believing the emotions on display. “You’re certainly interesting.” The distance between their faces grows uncomfortably close, and Sayo can feel Chisato’s lack of breath as a noticeable absence on her skin. “Now I  _ really _ want to know about you.”

Sayo is by no means a charming woman, nor the sort to make a move. Maybe it’s just the mood of the moment, but she smirks with defiance. “The feeling is mutual, Countess Shirasagi.”

* * *

“Look into my eyes.” Chisato’s voice is hypnotizing on its own, without accounting for the spell she’s cast on Sayo. Those eyes glow a deeper crimson as she commands Sayo to obey her words, by choice or not. “With this, you will see memories from this place play out.”

“I understand…” Sayo nods drowsily in her entranced state. Despite willingly volunteering, she had underestimated just how sleepish the spell would turn her. Chisato did say she hadn’t used it in a while.

They’ve entered the library at this point. It’s a massive antique collection of shelves and tomes and archives and scrolls, most from at least over a century ago. When Chisato said she withdrew from the world, she really meant it. Sayo wonders if there are any novels or philosophical texts here that were actually written within her thirty years of life. Doubtful. To its credit, the place is kept in very nice condition -- hardly a speck of dust to be found, just as the rest of the castle. Chisato’s maid staff does an amazing job keeping things tidy, it seems.

Sayo’s eyes open wide when she catches sight of a translucent human image. There’s a woman in a long white dress with blue hair like the daytime sky. The woman clutches a book to her chest and smiles with sincere enthusiasm. “Thank you, Chisato!”

“You’ve always loved stories of the world beyond, haven’t you, Kanon?” There’s another translucent figure standing at Kanon’s side. It’s Chisato, but it’s clear she’s much younger judging by the demeanor and how she carries herself.

“There’s so much that humanity has yet to explore! The depths of the ocean, the outer reaches of the sky, and the land beyond the stars… Aren’t you curious what’s waiting for us there?”

“Fufu,” the young Chisato laughs with one hand placed upon her own cheek. “I suppose so. Would you like to explore them together someday?” There’s already darkness beneath her eyes, but it’s much more faint than the Chisato standing on the other side of the bookshelf, averting her eyes from the memory.

“I’d love to!” Kanon answers, hopping up and down while keeping hold of the novel’s leather bindings in her arms. There’s so much delight, but soon her expression turns grim and she hesitates to say what she wants to. “...”

“What is it, Kanon?”

“I was just thinking about… how you might live long enough to see them for yourself.”

The words are caught in young Chisato’s throat, it’s clear the unease now weighs her down. There’s something she wants to say, something she knows she shouldn’t say. So when she speaks again, her true desires remain silent. “Yes, perhaps I will.”

“Umm, when we meet again in the afterlife… I hope you’ll tell me about what you find! Fuee…”

The younger Chisato smiles, even through the sound of her undead heart shattering in two. Sayo can hear it, she can feel it within her own chest. Even without knowing the person before her, she knows from deep within. Kanon’s image fades. There’s a teardrop left somewhere on Sayo’s cheek. 

The young Chisato’s image remains until the current Chisato steps through her, turning her into ethereal dust which travels all about the library. “Kanon Matsubara. My best friend.”

“Lady Matsubara… She meant a lot to you.” Sayo tries to wipe the tear with her jacket sleeve, but the sensation of water on her skin remains in its place.

“Of course she did. After seeing the worst of me, she still remained at my side. I truly loved her.”

“But you couldn’t admit it,” Sayo realizes, the echo of that yearning remaining inside her. “I’m so sorry.”

Chisato’s weak smile and wistful gaze into the distance tells Sayo all she needs to know. The Countess’ heart never managed to recover in the hundreds of years since then. “It is what it is. There’s no changing what has already passed.”

Sayo doesn’t fully understand, but it hurts to see the Countess like this. So lonely, for so long. As much as Chisato is her enemy, she is someone with feelings of her own. A monster can know pain and sorrow just as any other. She places both arms around Chisato’s stomach and holds onto her. Chisato’s body is frigid, but there’s something comforting about touching another with such tenderness.

“Sayo?”

“Apologies,” Sayo says, letting her arms loose but remaining close enough to feel the cold radiating from the Countess. “When my sister notices I’m feeling upset, she hugs me. I suppose my instincts took over.”

Chisato turns to her and for a moment, her lips seem as if they’re about to laugh. But they don’t. They don’t utter a single sound. Instead, they get closer. Sayo doesn’t realize what’s going on at first, until Chisato’s hands linger on her shoulders. The Countess hovers to meet Sayo eye-to-eye. They’re so close. She whispers with a playful smile, “I don’t mind it.”

If Sayo hasn’t died yet, she’s certainly about to die. Every bone in her body shivers with fear and her heartbeat is so short, so quick that she’s surely about to die. Chisato’s lips touch her own, and she’s surely about to die while being kissed by a vampire. When she presses her lips in response, when she willingly accepts Chisato’s whims, she’s surely about to die. And when the sensation remains even after Chisato’s lips leave, that sensation is death. She knows there’s nothing else it could be.

Yes, Sayo Hikawa will surely die tonight.

“You’re selfish,” Sayo mutters as she touches her lips with her fingertip, the tender cold gracing every centimeter of it.

“It’s about time you noticed, Sayo.”

Sayo glances into her eyes. There’s no red glow -- she’s not under Chisato’s spell right now, but she’s certainly under a spell. Perhaps one she cast on herself. “I might like that selfishness.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chisato fears those feelings. Within her own heart, no matter how long it’s been still, she fears the sensation of love. From others, it’s the most terrifying thing. So many have loved her, yet she’s loved so few. If she’s already feeling it for her guest, then surely this is the most fear she’s felt in centuries. To understand one another doesn’t have to be love. She knows this well, she believes every word of it. Yet here she is now, unable to fully control herself.

She can’t let Sayo feel the same.

She wished to wait before playing her cards, but the circumstances have grown much more dire than she had anticipated.

They walk through the manor’s hallways, guided by the dim lights of dying candles. Sayo follows behind with unflinching obedience. She’s like a puppy, she’s so clingy and yet so steadfast in everything she says and does. It’s adorable? She hates how adorable it is. How can she stop herself from loving a woman so adorable?

“You must have noticed all these empty bedrooms. There are dozens upon dozens littering these hallways, completely unoccupied. Would you like to know why?”

Sayo hesitates to answer, but Chisato can see the curiosity in her eyes.

“In that case, I’ll show you.”

Their eyes meet again, and once they do, she waves her hand in front of Sayo’s face, placing her in the trance. It’s only a moment between Sayo’s eyes closing shut and Chisato snapping her fingers that awaken her into the memory. Chisato elects to join her this time -- she cannot avert her eyes from the crimes she has committed.

The halls fill with light and the spirits of young women from a century and a half ago. Pretty young ladies who Chisato took in and trained with her own hands, teaching them to spill blood and drink it. To savor every morsel of the human life for themselves. “They were weak, vulnerable. They had nowhere to turn.”

“So you taught them how to be?” Sayo asks.

“At the time, they told me I saved them. They were on the brink of death, but they weren’t ready to die yet. So I granted them another chance. How foolish I was…” She pushes on one of the bedroom doors and it swings open. Inside is a girl with rags at her feet, rags that were once garbs. She’s trying on an outfit that she never would have dreamed of wearing while she was a living mortal. But here in her new home, she was thrilled to be a woman with any sort of power. “Do you see her? She was beaten to death by her father after she discovered he killed her mother.” She can still recall the sight from when that girl maimed the man who helped bring her into this wretched world. So gruesome, so lovely.

“Lady Chisato!” Another one floats through the hallway with excitement in her eyes, greeted by the imposing figure of a Chisato Shirasagi from a century and a half ago. “Show me how to do magic tricks!”

“One step at a time, dear,” that Chisato says, emulating her bright smile without any of the emotion in it.

“Daughter of a nobleman. She was taken hostage by bandits and killed when the father wouldn’t pay the ransom fee.” Each bandit a new meal for the youthful vampire. Though the girl spared her father’s life, Chisato made sure he would spend that life regretting his actions.

Chisato turns around and finds Sayo drawn to another girl, one with sorrow in her face. Staring directly toward her, Sayo reaches one hand out.

“Would you like to know her crime?” Chisato asks.

Sayo nods.

“The poor girl. She was the son of a woodworker, set to follow in her father’s footsteps. But she never chose to be a son. When she tried to be true to herself, her neighbors stoned her to death.”

Sayo’s lips quiver. There’s no teardrops this time, but something else. Sayo mutters something under her breath. It’s quiet enough that Chisato can’t hear, but she can read the empathy in that gaze.

“I wanted to help them. And they wanted to help me. I thought I was doing the right thing, but…”

The most pitiful teacher can only teach her disciples what she knows herself.

“I taught them greed.”

There’s a flash of white through the hallways and when Chisato and Sayo open their eyes, the path is littered with rotting corpses of those same girls. Stakes lodged all throughout their bodies and scars from battle left upon their arms. At the end of them, that same young Chisato who had taught them what they know shed tears of remorse, grasping a dagger with blood dripping from the pointed end. She falls to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably and not a soul dares disturb her.

“I never anticipated the terror they would bring. They turned more, and more, and they scattered throughout the continent. Vampires with no cause and no reason beyond the twisted desire to hurt. It was far beyond my power to stop them. But they were simply showing what they learned from me.”

She glances to Sayo, who once again watches in horror with words left unspoken. Sayo opens her mouth, but closes it before a single word can escape. The corpses of Chisato's victims dissolve into ash, then vanish into an illusory smoke.

“I am here today is because I wasn’t strong enough to stop them,” Chisato says. Sayo’s fingers curl into a fist. She clenches it at her side. “Do you understand me now? Do you understand why you must kill me?” Chisato can sense every nerve in Sayo’s body trembling. What is it, though? Horror? Anger? Disgust? Or... 

“Countess Shirasagi… I…” Sayo raises her head high, still shaking in place. She stares up at the ceiling. Her eyes are devoid of light, her lip quivers as she speaks. “Is it possible for you to access my memories with that power?”

Chisato is taken aback. She attempts to peer into her, but Sayo is making it more difficult than it should be. She floats to her height, but there’s no pupils between her eyelids and no emotion to be found. Or perhaps, the emotion has buried itself deep within her. “I’m not certain. But I won’t know unless I try, I suppose.”

* * *

Towards the back of the Chateau there is a courtyard where the moonlight reaches, with stone paths surrounded by flora and life that blooms in both night and day. There’s green all around them. To the left from where you enter are bushels of vegetables, trees of fruit. Berries hang from the branches of where birds would roost in the spring. They’re primarily used to feed the maids, as well as the rare visitor like Sayo. 

To the right from that entrance are different types of poisons -- lilies of the valley that tempt man with their silent ringing, wisteria clinging to the trees awaiting to see who might take them, and one must not forget the fragrant scent of death lingering amongst the black hellebores. To a vampire, poisons are not unlike spices in how they alter the flavor of human blood. Too much will taint everything in the system and turn the blood rotten, but just the right amount can create a taste so illustrious, so sought after that many believe it’s worth the risk. For Chisato Shirasagi, poisons have other uses, such as silencing the voice of any man who dares speak her name.

“This will do,” Sayo says, scanning the vicinity between the outer walls.

“I’ll need your help with this one. Focus intently on my words,” Chisato instructs her as they take their spot in the center of the garden beside a fountain drained of any fluid. 

Sayo nods without hesitation. Chisato places one hand against Sayo’s chest, the other upon the huntress’ cheek. Carefully, she makes their eyes meet and feels a pulse from within her. For a moment, Chisato notices just how vulnerable Sayo is right now. Her cheek is so warm… the blood flowing through her must taste of ecstasy. Chisato banishes the thought before she can let her eyes linger down to the neck, jeopardizing any chance of making this spell work.

The irises surrounding Sayo’s pupils radiate in scarlet. It’s not quite the same as when she places a human into her thrall, but if she’s not careful, Sayo’s mind might fall into the depths of her control.

Her voice remains a whisper, but Chisato can see Sayo mouth the word, “Deeper…” She’s not fully entranced, but from within her subconscious she’s trying to go further. Chisato may very well have to dig further to reach her.

Chisato’s feet leave the garden floor. With her hand still on Sayo’s cheek, she guides the huntress’ head upwards until they’re level with each other. Sayo’s eyes shut, but the glow is still there beneath. Chisato’s eyes follow -- it’s almost like reaching inside of her. Their lips touch -- connection established. They press against, trying to find each other’s hands in the darkness. Chisato reaches further, so careful not to let her fangs even graze against Sayo’s lips. All the while, she feels as if she’s reaching into Sayo’s soul, dragging something out that was never meant to escape. Her tongue soon retreats. They open their eyes once more, greeted by the spirits of Sayo’s past.

“It worked,” Sayo mutters as she gazes at her much younger counterpart. Young Sayo’s clothing is much more ragged and torn compared to the fanciful suit and long trench coat she wears today. Her hair is much shorter, her expression so much more innocent in spite of the pain she’s suffered already. Chasing after her is another girl who looks just like her.

“Sis!” the younger girl calls out. “I’m coming with you!”

The older twin freezes where she stands, aghast at the sound of her sister’s aid. “Hina… please, go back home.”

“You don’t deserve to be exiled! You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“It doesn’t matter. This is my punishment, and mine alone. You still have the choice to go home and live a normal life. Please don’t waste it.”

The huntress sits on the edge of the empty fountain and sighs to herself. “My sister was always following me around. Even when she shouldn’t have. I should have appreciated that more.”

The image of Hina throws her arms over the young Sayo’s stomach. Though her gestures come off as excited, there’s a shadow across Hina’s face as she whispers into her ear, “If you go out there alone, you’ll die. I won’t let that happen.” The elder sister sighs, but she allows Hina to remain close as she walks off and her figure dissipates into fog before Chisato and Sayo.

The fog settles around them and clears, revealing something from further along in her memory. Sayo’s hair had grown much longer, her eyes hardened by her time learning to survive. Yet Hina remained the same, with an ever-cheerful expression and no fear of danger.

“Sis! Watch this!” A strange lavender flame appears within the palm of Hina’s hand. She smiles with glee as she anticipates her sister’s reaction. “Isn’t it boppin’?!”

“Hina… Where did you learn this spell?”

“In here!” Cradled in her other arm is a grimoire labeled with the title  _ Ars Goetia. _ A silent expression fo shock and terror appears on Sayo’s face. “I wanted to learn magic so I could help you with your body problem. I’m gonna try to figure out a transformation spell, that way you don’t have to hurt anymore!”

“Hina… This is very dangerous. Please don’t put yourself through that.”

“Aww, but I wanna help.”

“I’m sure there are alternatives. There are still places we haven’t looked. I’ll consult the local alchemy’ academy, perhaps they can help. Just… promise you won’t endanger yourself for my sake.”

But Hina made no promises. And the next time Sayo saw her…

“Hina, I have great news! I met an alchemist who was willing to help me! She even--” The smile on Sayo’s face drops in an instant and the books and papers she carries crash against the floor like leaves in a windstorm.

Before her is her sister, the same as ever, except for her arm. It’s turned into something grotesque, covered in scales, iridescent and pulsating like a breathing organism. Her fingertips have become slimy claws, still carrying that grimoire with her. “Hey sis.” Hina’s smile is unworldly. The white of her left eye has been corrupted by pure black. Buried within her where her bangs part is a curved horn reaching upwards, trying to free itself from her skin. “I’ve been practicing! I think I’m getting really good at this!”

Chisato’s jaw drops while the scene plays out before her eyes. “I see,” she says, unable to find any words of comfort. She glances to the woman beside her, who is trying so hard to hide the tears begging to escape from her. The fact that she’s still able to keep them back tells her what she needs to know -- the worst is yet to come.

The fog returns, no image accompanies the voice they hear. “You know she can’t be left like this.” All that’s visible is a shadow of the woman Sayo once was. Other figures surround her, but they’re too vague to make out a shape. “It’s not an easy decision, so we’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“I won’t let you do that to her!” young Sayo shouts.

“That’s why we think it should be you.”

“I…” The young huntress’ voice trembles. Her silhouette is visibly breaking into pieces. She falls to her knees. The breeze carries her off into a thousand tiny particles, leaving nothing behind but the despair in her heart.

The fog lifts once more. The curtains rise for the final act of this tragedy. Hina’s body has grown even more demonic by now, with horns spread out atop her head and sharp fangs that rival even a vampire’s. The scales are growing out from her face, too, seeping down her neck, and now she has a tail to match them. She no longer holds the book, for her abilities have far surpassed what it could teach her. Directly across from her is the huntress. The same outfit as this Sayo, with only a few years of aging shaved off. Gripping the hilt of her falchion. Her blade pointed directly toward Hina.

“Why did it have to come to this? Why?!” In the decade since she became a hunter, there is one monster Sayo Hikawa could not bring herself to kill. Even the most fearsome huntress wouldn’t be able to turn on the sister who remained at her for so long. “This is all my fault. If there is a god, he is surely laughing at me.”

“I chose this for myself, sis. Don’t feel bad!”

“Shut up, Hina! If I hadn’t been this way… if you hadn’t followed me…” Her blade falls to the earth and clatters against stone. She curls her fingers into fists and stares at her weapon. “I don’t want to do this. I can’t. But I won’t let anyone else.”

Hina opens her arms and places them around her sister’s shoulders. Even now, the sensation of a hug can numb the pain. Their forms fade into ash and light, rise to the sky to return to the stars.

“Afterwards,” the present day Sayo speaks, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I let her go. I was deemed a failure and went a month without a meal. But Hina escaped to the east. I’m not sure where she ended up. She might be terrorizing villages and slaughtering humans for all I know. Or another hunter might’ve slain her after I couldn’t do it myself.”

“Do you regret that decision?” Chisato asks.

Sayo shrugs. “I’m not sure if it was the right decision or not. But if I had the choice to go back in time, I don’t think I could bring myself to make any other choice.”

Chisato’s arms slide around Sayo’s stomach. She leans her body against the huntress and though she knows it may not be the same, she hopes that her undead body and the sympathy within can provide some form of comfort.

* * *

The ballroom is unlike anything else in the manor, save perhaps the banquet hall. It’s a wide open space constructed entirely of light marble into a rounded out room with a window in the far back, currently hidden by a bright red curtain. In front of the window is the only solid object in the room -- a classical grand piano in near perfect condition raised atop a small elevated platform. The spirit of an older gentleman mans the keyboard, his sound echoing far into the future from when he once played. The sound is so crystal clear that one could focus the entirety of their attention toward the pianist and be utterly mesmerized. The ring finger of his left hand is occupied by a ring made from titanium wisps.

Sayo’s eyes are mesmerized by something else, though. The woman guiding her along the melody, whose eyes are embedded with an everlasting sorrow. It’s something she can recognize in her own reflection.

“Sayo, you’re stepping on my feet.”

Sayo glances down to see that she is before retreating back. “Ah… Forgive me. I’ve never danced formally before.” She’s been trying her best to keep up, but that has for the most part ended up translating to awkwardly jigging in place while letting Chisato pull her along the ballroom floor, hands linked together with each other.

Chisato’s lips by now have abandoned their polite facade. The strain of three hundred years carries itself across the floor of a castle shaped by her hands. While her feet are one step behind for every two steps Chisato takes, she manages to keep to the rhythm with the keys.

Chisato’s fingers secure themselves between Sayo’s, clasping onto her knuckles. A smile cracks on Sayo’s lips as she notices just how fond of that lifeless touch she’s become.

“You’re really not afraid of monsters, are you?” Chisato asks.

“Killing monsters has never felt much different than killing humans. I’m really just a glorified assassin,” Sayo answers. She raises one eyebrow and continues, “And yes, I’ve killed plenty of humans, too.”

“That tends to happen when you’re on the run from something,” Chisato says with a wistful gaze. “Tell me, Sayo. Are you afraid of me?”

Sayo is lost in an ocean of scarlet. She gulps down the air between herself and the Countess, fully expecting to drown in the emotion that overwhelms her. She steps, and Chisato steps twice. “I’m afraid of what I feel for you.”

Chisato’s lips curl upward, as they have so many times tonight. But they don’t seem playful this time, they seem… empathetic. “I’m afraid, too.”

The pianist’s spirit is joined by a cellist of near equal age, another man with a ring matching the other musician’s. Chateau Shirasagi has kept some interesting company across the years. The instrument’s low pitch creates a tempo much easier for Sayo to follow along with. Still by no means an expert, but now she’s careful not to embarrass herself by stepping on her partner’s shoes repeatedly.

Sayo takes a deep breath in, before exhaling to the sound of music. This atmosphere is something she never imagined herself enjoying up until now.

“Sayo,” the sound of Chisato’s voice steals her attention effortlessly. “If you died tonight, what would remain of you?”

“Nothing but the memories of those I’ve encountered. Between my friends back home, my sister who may still walk this earth, and you, Countess Shirasagi. Once the flame of my life is put out, there will be no legacy beyond that.” Sayo leans forward, still managing to keep together with Chisato’s movements. “Tell me, when the next huntress appears through your door, will I even leave enough an impression to be a part of those memories?”

“You’re the first person I’ve shown those to.”

“I may very well be the last, then.”

The tension surrounding them is bittersweet, but the music in the air drives it away like the wind. It hurts so much to think about what must come next, but the tranquility of their temporary fantasy is enough to make this dance last three lifetimes over.

* * *

Chisato recalls a tale from her youth and recounts it to Sayo. A tragic tale written in death, forgotten by all but its author.

_ Once upon a time, there was a girl with bright eyes and unimaginable charm. She yearned for one thing and one thing only -- to be a prince. She may have been little more than the daughter of a nobleman, but that did not stop her from pursuing this dream. And she wanted nothing more than for her dear princess to see her accomplish this. It would not come to pass, however, as they were torn away from each other by the duties they could not escape. Alas. _

_ She grew older, and her noble desires did not once falter. She was an incredible duelist and a chivilrous gentlewoman who never treated others as less than her but always held onto her own pride. Perhaps not a prince in title, but more noble and more kind than any blood prince one could find. So it was no shock when she was reunited with her childhood friend, her dear princess, now grown and ready to become her lover. _

_ That woman promised her the world. She promised her a throne of her own, one befitting of the true prince. She promised her a kingdom, one that would acknowledge her regardless of bloodlines. She promised her eternity, and eternity thereafter. But she refused to spoil the surprise, and left out the most important detail. So when night fell on the royal family’s castle, she slaughtered and fed upon every heir, every descendent and left with the king’s head as a trophy. It was her kindness, her gift to the woman who deserved the world. _

_ Yet her efforts were in vain. _

_ Her dearest prince was hunted and held high for all in town to watch. Suspected of being a heretic, a traitor to the church. Suspected of falling in love with a vampire. She was burned at the stake for her crimes against god.  _

_ From that day on, Chisato Shirasagi carried the weight of her first lover’s death like hell upon her shoulders. _

* * *

Perhaps Chisato Shirasagi has lived for long enough. 

Sayo doesn’t want to admit it to herself, but the torment of three centuries should not be one woman’s burden to bear. She understands that much, so… why does the thought hurt more than anything else? Why is Sayo always the one to doubt herself at the worst moments? When it happened with Hina, she swore it would never happen again. There is nothing but her own footsteps through the hallway to answer to her thoughts.

“If you still wish to kill me, come to the Chateau’s keep. I will be waiting.” Those were Chisato’s final words before they parted. Whether or not she wants to kill her is a question with no easy answer, but she’s trudging through Chateau Shirasagi with her blade at her side either way. Perhaps they can just talk things through when she arrives.

But Sayo is here to do a job, after all. She must survive, in spite of those who wish otherwise. She knows better than to hope for anything in her life. If there is a god, he is surely laughing at her.

There is a grand set of stairs that diverges and converges in a pattern up to the next floor. Twin doors await at the top, and just beyond them, the keep where Chisato awaits. It is the third highest point inside Chateau Shirasagi, decorated like the entrance to a royal chamber. Just before the stairs, Sayo drops her jacket behind her, leaving her own upper body exposed -- a dress shirt and a cravat won’t provide much protection against a vampire. Chains and weaponry rattle along the floor. In one hand, she clings to her silver blade in spite of how badly she wishes not to use it. In the other, she fastens a pouch containing exactly one wooden stake around her hip. Once the weight of her armory vanishes, she takes a deep breath in and ascends.

She reaches the top, still holding her sword at her side. She pushes on through the twin doors and within is a rather plain room decorated with more red velvet carpet and crimson silk curtains. More golden candlesticks standing upright, more chandeliers, more marble pillars. Otherwise, there is naught but empty space. Sayo expected a throne room -- most vampire castles have one, but of course Chisato would never.

Chisato awaits in the middle of the room. They lock eyes with each other. Sayo feels her right arm become petrified, the blade along with it. Her heart rate increases tenfold. Chisato smiles, everything comes undone. No words will ever be enough to heal the undead princess.

When the Countess smiles, it can only mean it hurts.

Sayo runs for her and swings her sword at Chisato’s throat. Chisato dodges to the side, but Sayo’s blade slits a hole in Chisato’s shoulder, both the dress and her skin. No sense of pride or victory comes with a successful hit. Her stomach churns. Be they enemies or lovers or something beyond either, Sayo cannot let herself focus on her thoughts.

Chisato retaliates with her fist to Sayo’s stomach. Even in her weakened state, a blow that strong is enough to send Sayo flying back toward a pillar. She’s able to keep her feet on the floor and use that traction to remain standing, but it’s difficult to ignore the pain of such a hit. Chisato isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, either. She leaps into the range of Sayo’s sword and strikes again with her other fist. Sayo raises her arms to block, but all that does is cause the pain to echo through her bones and vibrate throughout her body. She’s lucky her grip on the sword is tight enough that it doesn’t fall to the floor.

Sayo swings back and Chisato takes another hit -- this time a much more prominent gash through her stomach. Hardly any blood spills out, but she recoils and finds herself struggling to remain upright. Sayo cannot tell whether Chisato is holding back or if this is the extent of her strength now. Her movements are so much slower than they were in their first battle. It’s so haunting to see her power deteriorate in the midst of combat.

Chisato shows her fangs and raises both hands in a clutch, hissing before she jumps at Sayo’s shoulders and claws at her back. Her fangs start to dig into Sayo’s neck. The blood starts to drip from where Chisato bites down. But Sayo is quick to counter. She runs her sword through Chisato’s chest. Chisato barely gets a lick of Sayo’s blood before she’s pried off of her by force. That little strength she might have gained from human blood becomes futile when the wound on her chest causes her strength to dissipate even more.

They exchange blow after blow, punch after slash. And again, until Chisato’s arm begins to tremble. ‘Are you okay?’ Sayo wishes to ask, even though she knows the answer is of course not, when has Countess Chisato Shirasagi ever been okay in life or death? The words don’t escape.

Chisato sniffs at the air. As if driven by instinct alone, she starts approaching Sayo. She’s in a trance, and Sayo knows no way to break the spell. She can feel the stream of red slithering down her neck. She backs away. Chisato limps onward. “Well, Sayo?”

The sound of her voice alone is enough to send Sayo into a frenzy. Her words matter not. Sayo holds her blade out and leaps forward, aiming directly for Chisato’s throat once more. In mid-air, she shouts, “Haaa!” and falls toward Chisato. Blade ready to slice its way into her beloved Countess’ neck.

She misses. By the most narrow margin, she misses. Her entire body tackles Chisato to the ground and the sword flies across the room until it lands in the stomach of a pillar nearby. Her hands and knees keep her held up, looming over Chisato’s body, looking directly at her face. She only now notices the dagger in her stomach. It’s dug deep in there. Blood is spilling down the blade’s edges and over the hilt. Her blood. Her own blood. At the other end of the dagger is Chisato’s hand, clutched tight around the hilt.

Sayo reaches for her hip and grabs the wooden stake. With both hands, she grasps the one tool she has that could end Chisato’s life. “I’ll kill you,” she says, staring down at her, awaiting a response. Quaking with dread and the absolute shock of a knife through her gut.

Chisato’s eyes open. Her expression is so peaceful right now. This is the first time it’s seemed truly genuine. “Go ahead.” With her free arm, with what little strength remains in her at this point, she reaches up. She cups Sayo’s cheek with it. The cold is like frostbite on her skin, in her heart.

Slowly, Sayo lowers the stake to Chisato’s chest. The sharp end is pointed directly where the heart would be. Whether or not that heart functions doesn’t matter, as long as the weapon hits its mark. But her hands are quivering and the stake is shaking and wavering in her grasp. It lingers just above its target, but her hands won’t bring it into place. There’s a voice in the back of her mind screaming for her to jam the stake into Chisato. It’s drowned by a thousand other voices demanding otherwise.

Teardrops begin to fall. They’re light at first, like the sprinkle of a watering can, but they soon become a deluge and blind Sayo’s eyes to the point where she can’t see. There are tremors all throughout her body, her fingers shake and sweat even as they cannot move a single centimeter. With all her might, she’s trying so much to push the stake into place.

But she cannot.

She raises it above her head once more. In that split-second, she doesn’t even stop to think about driving it into Chisato’s heart. She throws it with all the power she can. It doesn’t matter where it lands, as long as it’s as far away from Countess Shirasagi as it can be.

The teardrops haven’t stopped. Chisato’s hand hasn’t moved, nor has her blade. The tremors reach Sayo’s knees and she falls downward. The dagger becomes lodged further inside her stomach and she tries to reach her arms around Chisato’s shoulders. But before she can show any sort of affection, her vision fades completely, her consciousness along with it. “I’m… s-sorry…” she murmurs as her life drains away.

* * *

A dim light emanates from the dozens of candles fixed to the hallway walls. Blood -- human blood -- drips from the sleeve of Chisato’s dress, staining the carpet with an appetizing scent. She hardly remembers a time when the walk from the castle’s keep to her bedroom was so lengthy and arduous. Chateau Shirasagi has never felt so lonely. She clutches a bleeding Sayo to her chest with all her strength and listens intently for the heartbeat. It’s still there, but so faint. She won’t make it fast enough if she doesn’t hurry, but so much of her strength remains drained from their battle that she can’t fly.

“Mm…” Sayo’s eyes blink groggily as if she were awaking from a long nap. Chisato gets the impression that Sayo isn’t the sort to take naps of her own accord, especially not ones that involve her bleeding out in front of death’s door.

“Shhh…” Chisato’s hands are a bit too full right now to place one finger over her lip. She holds Sayo close with one arm. In the other, she’s frantically trying to keep a tablecloth tied over Sayo’s open wound to slow the blood loss.

“Lady Shirasagi?” Sayo moans with what remains of her breath. Chisato really wishes Sayo wouldn’t waste her final moments of life on her. Her eyes widen.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“Where are we going?”

“My bedroom,” Chisato says with a tear rolling down her cheek. It’s a shock to her how a being without an ounce of warmth in her body can grow even colder from her own teardrops. “I owe you that much dignity, at least.”

“Lady Shirasagi... “ Sayo mumbles, ignoring Chisato’s words while the droplet falls upon her skin.

“Here.” Chisato bites down on her lip with one fang and a small drip of vampiric blood leaks out like drool. With what strength she can manage, she dips her upper body down and places the bottom of her lip upon Sayo’s mouth. It’s like a kiss, but with much less grace and much different intention. A small stream of that blood falls upon Sayo’s tongue -- thankfully Sayo’s survival instincts are good enough that she sips it down without complaint. “That should buy us a few more minutes.”

Sayo nods while color drains from her flesh. The pain of her wound is catching up to her, judging by the weakness of her movements. With a ragged breath, Sayo Hikawa shuts her eyes for one final time. “The stars are beautiful tonight, aren’t they?”

… 

Chisato lays Sayo’s dying body out across her own bed, raising her neck with a pillow to keep her upright. She’s been redressed into a bloodstained white gown that once belonged to Kanon. Blotches of red are dyed into the waistline and the sleeves have grown tattered over the course of hundreds of years. She presses a finger against Sayo’s forehead and is relieved to find that the warmth has not left her entirely yet. In the process, she made sure to properly patch the dagger wound up to slow the bleeding more effectively.

“You were in over your head, huntress. I can’t believe you.”

She jerks Sayo’s cranium aside in order to get a better angle on her bare neck. With a washrag in her other hand, she rubs the spot where she had previously attacked. She makes sure to clean off any remnants of saliva, but she’s gentle enough to not push too hard into the spot itself. She’d already cleaned the excess blood off before she carried her over, but there’s enough of an indent from the mark of her fangs that it’ll make her skin much easier to dig through and sink into.

Chisato whispers in Sayo’s ear, “I suppose I love that about you, though.” She can sense the slightest bit of consciousness emerge in response. It’s as if she’s awake, but locked within a trance of her own making, able to feel yet unable to speak or see.

Her arms lock themselves around Sayo’s chest. As she prepares to bite, she can’t help but savor the closeness. It’s been a long time since she’s actually enjoyed this sort of intimacy with another, be they human or vampire. Her lips curl upwards and split apart, revealing the fangs inside. Without second-thought, she sinks them into that subtle spot on Sayo’s neck.

Sayo’s blood is so, so delectable. Perhaps it’s in part thanks to the self-deprivation of human blood that Chisato is able to enjoy it tenfold. Or perhaps it’s something else. Man’s blood has never quite carried this sort of flavor. It’s a paradise on her tongue, a special sort of paradise only for the monsters who shall never see true paradise. She savors every fraction of every second in which the ichor of Sayo Hikawa’s life flows through her fangs. With each passing fraction of each passing second, she can feel undeath return to her. It starts in the head, where she no longer feels quite so faint or exhausted. It moves down through every muscle in her face, permitting her to strengthen the grip her teeth hold upon Sayo’s neck. It moves down her shoulders, through her arms. She clings tighter to her beloved huntress. When it moves to her legs, she finds them intertwining with Sayo’s.

She loves the taste of Sayo. So, so much. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, she savors every last drop, every ephemeral moment. Sayo remains silent on the brink of life and death, but she tilts her head even further away to make more room for Chisato. She’s so considerate, so generous. Chisato never deserved to live such a wonderful dream. Perhaps she’s lucky, in the most twisted way one could imagine.

As Chisato feels the lifeblood fading from Sayo, she loosens the hold of her teeth around Sayo’s skin. Slowly, carefully, she withdraws. Sayo is so helpless on her bed, the color in her skin having nearly vanished entirely. She recalls a feeling she had not felt in centuries, the moments before she turned. Still conscious, yet lifeless, awaiting the pull of death before she was strangled back into the throes of life.

“Thank you so much, Sayo.” She hopes the blissful smile on her lips is a genuine one. 

On the nightstand beside Chisato’s bed, there is a chalice made of brass, encrusted with amethyst. She lifts her left hand and hovers it over the chalice’s cup. With her right hand, she draws the dagger, now cleaned of the stains left by Sayo’s gut. She takes the blade and slashes open a slit in the palm of her left hand, from just below the thumb to the other end. Ancient, undead blood oozes out and flows like a creek, then a stream, then a river. It fills the cup with a darkened and bitter crimson. An ocean in the palm of her hands.

Once the chalice is filled nearly to the brim, she clasps her left hand together and presses her fingers over the cut to keep the blood still. To her unexpected delight, the wound heals in nearly an instant with naught but a mark of red in its place. Sayo has already done so much for her, the least she could do is return the favor.

Chisato carries the chalice to where Sayo lies. She pulls her body back from death’s door and sits her upright, lifting the cup to Sayo’s lip. With what little energy remains, Sayo gives a blink and a nod. Chisato tilts the edge toward her mouth and watches attentively to make sure not a single droplet of her own blood is lost on the way through. Soon enough, Sayo is able to move her hands and takes the bottom of the cup with both of them, craning her neck back and tipping the elixir of death further down her throat, pushing it through her veins. Within moments, she’s consumed every last morsel of vampiric blood.

Sayo closes her eyes. Her face appears restful, even as death passes through every inch of her body. The color has all but vanished from her and her entire body has gone limp.

All that is left for Chisato to do is wait for the moment in which the huntress awakens anew.

* * *

Sayo has a fever that blazes with the intensity of a miniature sun inside her head. At the same time, her arms and legs shiver as if there is a tundra trapped within them. It feels as if she is burning to death while simultaneously freezing to death. She pushes up the sleeves of her gown and tries to rub her palms against her arms for some semblance of warmth, but the sensations soon reverse themselves -- her arms are scorching, her head aches of a bitter winter.

Chisato sits beside the bed with her eyes closed, but they soon open to greet her. “Good morning, Sayo.” She sighs with relief from the bottom of her heart.

The fog in Sayo’s brain has to take a minute to clear before she can respond. “Good morning?”

“Yes. If you peek outside you’ll find that it’s dawn. That being said, I’d strongly advise against that.”

Sayo reaches her hands back and pushes herself up against the mattress. She only expects to sit herself upright, but instead she lifts her entire body into the air and hovers serenely above the sheets.

“You won’t have much control in the immediate hours following your transformation. I’m shocked you haven’t accidentally shapeshifted into a bat yet.”

“Is that how this usually goes?” Sayo asks. She’s a little surprised by how casual she manages to come off in her response. Should she be more shocked or more taken aback to the fact that she’s now a vampire? For some reason, it hasn’t quite hit yet?

“Sometimes it’s much worse. Once a girl transformed into a cloud of fog and had no clue how to change back for seventy two hours.”

“Fufu,” Sayo laughs with an unexpected ease, smiling with delight to be here and now. Though physically she feels as if she’s being torn apart from the inside out, the weight of all her worries has evaporated entirely. For the first time since she was young, she is unburdened. “I’ll try my best to stay in one shape.”

Chisato smiles back. “Good. You’re going to feel like absolute death for a little while, plus you’ll need to unlearn many of your human habits. I will help with that.” The tension in her eyes is still ever-present. Sayo can tell she’s still taking on the world by herself.

“Chisato,” she calls out softly. It’s so easy to say it, too. Not out of disrespect, either, but genuine fondness. The name is a harmony upon her lips. “We can take things slow.”

Chisato’s demeanor softens in surprise and the tension loosens from her cheeks. “...I suppose so. Perhaps there are things I must unlearn, too.”

Sayo reaches back again, trying to inch herself downward and… closer… gotcha! She snatches the fabric of the bedsheet and uses it to pull herself down, returning to comfort of Chisato’s bed.

“You seem to be taking to your new form,” Chisato says.

Sayo touches two fingers just below her lip, wondering if it’s supposed to feel this good to be no longer human. “It feels amazing. Well, aside from the initial pain. I feel so much more free.”

“Fufu. I wonder if that’s how it was for me.” Chisato’s cheek rests upon her hand as she lovingly listens.

“I’m not even sure why I was running from it for so long. Now that I’m here, it seems like it was inevitable from the start.”

Chisato doesn’t respond. It’s clear she has no way of knowing how long Sayo has felt like the monster she’s finally become. But there's mutual respect in the way they gaze into each other. More than respect, there is solace.

They continue sharing the moment together for a few more minutes before Sayo’s eyes begin to feel heavy. She doesn’t have much consciousness right now, considering how much she’s been through over the course of one evening. The same must apply to Chisato, the woman who had stared death in the face as its emotions spilled across her skin. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”

“Older vampires don’t typically need sleep. It’s more of a formality than a necessity,” Chisato answers.

“But you are tired. I can see it in your eyes.” Sayo scoots to the side and lifts half of the covers over, revealing space in the bed much larger than what would be needed to fit Chisato into. It’s such a forward move, Sayo hardly expects it from herself yet she doesn’t feel any shame. “I’d like it if you slept at my side.”

“...Fufu. You are adorable, aren’t you? Mere hours ago you were hunting vampires to survive. Are you still the same Sayo who walked into my home?” In spite of her teasing, Chisato accepts Sayo’s offer and finds her place in the bed next to the newly turned vampire. “I hope this was the right decision.”

“I’m not entirely sure what the future will hold for either of us… But I promise you. No matter what, I wouldn’t have asked for any other outcome.”

Sayo closes her eyes as a vampire for the first time. Yeah. She can take things slowly, and so can Sayo. She’s so restful, her shoulders so light. She takes a deep breath in and exhales for old times’ sake before remembering she doesn’t need to breathe. It may not always feel like this, but even this one moment of bliss makes everything -- all the pain she’s ever felt and all the pain she’s yet to feel -- worth enduring again and again.

**Author's Note:**

> huge thanks to [TheShinySword](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShinySword/pseuds/TheShinySword) and [silversilky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silversilky/pseuds/silversilky) for both inspiration and beta reading! y'all are awesome!  
> additional thanks to [RunaLiore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunaLiore/pseuds/RunaLiore) for bouncing ideas off of, too!


End file.
